


Lost For Words

by FallenAngelAndPie



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenAngelAndPie/pseuds/FallenAngelAndPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conner is a shy, twenty three year old clothing store employee, afraid he's going to die alone.<br/>William is a twenty nine year old junior advertising exec, who hates his job, hates his suits, and hates his lack of a dating life.<br/>One ordinary day, William walks into Conner's store and things start changing for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost For Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work.  
> A few of my lovely tumblr followers, georgeharrisonofabitch, aleighnah-winchester, and supernatwholock, helped me with a few ideas.

The morning sun trickled into Conner’s tiny bachelor’s apartment through the small opening in the curtains.  The twenty-three old clothing store employee stretched his arms up above his head as he slowly woke, ten minutes before his alarm was due to sound. He opened his eyes and stared blankly up at the ceiling.

“Another day,” he mumbled as he threw his blankets off of his fit, naked body. “Another fucking day.”

Conner Desmond has worked at Le Chateau Menswear, on Burrard street in Vancouver, since the twelfth grade.  After six months, he despised every second he spent in that store.  His manager is constantly flirting with him and checking him out, the customers are all snooty rich people or snooty wannabe-rich people, and he hates riding the bus to work.  The only thing he does like about his job is that it provides him with enough income for him to rent a nice, but small, bachelor’s apartment in Kitsilano, complete with a view of the water.

 “What do I wear today?  Dress pants and a vest or dress pants and a tie?” Conner asked himself as he stood in front of his antique wardrobe, rifling through his dress clothes. “Hmmm.  Sweater vest, skinny jeans, and tie it is.”

 That was another perk of the job, Conner realized.  Dressing well always made him feel good and he’s been doing so for as long as he’s been able to dress himself.  At least now he gets paid to dress well.

 Conner laid his outfit out on his bed before making his way into the bathroom for a quick shower.  He stood in front of the mirror, flexing his muscles and admiring his physique. 

 “Not bad for never working out,” he smiled as he grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste.

 He brushed his teeth, peed and then turned on the shower.  He waited until it was sufficiently warm and jumped in.  He hated long showers so he was out again in five minutes.  He toweled off his hair, threw the towel on the ground and made his way into the kitchen part of his tiny apartment for some breakfast.

Naked and wet, he stared into his almost empty fridge for a few minutes.

“Fuck, I really need to buy food,” he swore as he a yogurt cup and closed the fridge door. “I’m going to have to grab something at Mac’s.”

 He leaned against the counter as he slowly ate his blueberry yogurt.

He loved being naked.  He dropped his clothes the second he closed his door after work.  He’s always had a love-hate relationship with clothes and was happy to live on his own, where he was free to walk around completely nude….as long as he remembered to close the curtains.  Once he forgot and he swears he saw a little old lady, walking on the beach, faint.  Probably because he looks so fucking good!

 Conner knows that he can be a bit conceded at times, but he’s also incredibly shy and has high anxiety when he’s around attractive strangers.  In eleventh grade biology, he was partnered with his long time crush, and even though he knew that nothing was ever going to happen between the two of them, that still didn’t stop him from getting sweaty palms, stuttering and dropping the knife.  He was so nervous that the other boy was forced to do the entire frog dissection.  Conner lied and said that the sight of the dead frog made him queasy, just to save the other boy the embarrassment of having a male admirer.

 This anxiety around attractive men is the reason why he’s alone, he knows this.  His friends try to set him up with people, he stutters, stammers and sweats his way through the date only to never hear from the other man again.  He’s accepted the fact that he’s more than likely going to die alone.

 Standing in front of the mirror he checks himself out, now fully dressed.  Pink dress shirt, black, fitted sweater vest, blue, satin bowtie and dark wash skinny jeans.

 “The sweater vest isn’t working.  Regular vest it is,” he took off the sweater vest and threw it onto the bed.

 Once he had the black dress vest on and buttoned, he sat down and put on a pair of socks and his usual pair of red converse.  Some people may say that his choice of shoes clash with his outfit, but red converse have been his signature piece since the tenth grade.  He wore them with his tux at prom and with his suit at his sister’s wedding two years ago.  He currently owns three pairs of red converse shoes, the other two pairs have never been worn, as they’re replacements for when his current pair is no longer wearable.

“Okay, well, I’m ready for another day of hell,” Conner pats down his hair and brushed his short bangs to the left.

 He grabbed his brown messenger bag, flung it over his shoulder, and exited his apartment.

* * *

It's one o'clock and Conner, fresh from his break, was busy refolding some v-neck t-shirts that some unruly, and horribly dressed, teenage boys had rummaged through, when a young, casually dressed man entered the store.

"Excuse me, but do you think you could help me?" the man asked as he approached Conner.

Conner spun around, t-shirt in his hands, only to come face to face with Adonis.  

Conner swallowed hard.

"Oh shit," he thought. "This man is beautiful.  And I'm the only person here.  Fuck!  I have to help him. Fuck!"

"Can you help me?" the man asked again.

"Uh, um," Conner took in the man's attire: Beatles t-shirt, cargo shorts, and an old pair of Nike sneakers. "Sure.  Um, wh-what are you looking for?"

"Well, my cousin is getting married next month, and all my suits are too business-y for a wedding, so I was looking for a nice pair of dress pants and shirt.  Nothing fancy.  I don't want to feel too stuffy.  I feel stuffy enough at work," this gorgeous man talked with his hands.  Conner loved that.

"Sure, I, uh, I can help," Conner turned back around to put the still unfolded t-shirt back on the table.  

"This man is perfect.  Tall, scruffy facial hair, casual, tanned, aviators.  Oh my God.  Stay cool, Conner.  Stay cool," Conner thought to himself.

"Well?" the man shifted, leaning slightly forward.

"Oh, uh, what is, what is your favourite colour, or colour that looks best on you, that, uh, that you prefer wearing?" Conner suddenly regretted his choice to wear a vest today.  He was already feeling extremely hot.

"I like blue," the man smiled.

"His teeth are perfect, too," Conner thought.

"Okay, blue, that's a good start," Conner smiled nervously. "Follow me over here."

Conner led the attractive stranger over to the table with casual dress shirts, picked one of the light blue ones up, unfolded it and held it against the man's chest.

"This one, uh, might look good against, um, against your tanned skin.  Unless you'd prefer a darker shade of blue," Conner dropped his arms and turned around to the table, to pick up a darker blue shirt.

"No, no that one was good.  Light blue is perfect for summer," the man smiled as he happily grabbed the shirt from Conner's hand.

"Oh, okay then," Conner led the man over to the rack of dress pants. "I'd pair that shirt with a pair of dark grey trousers if it were me, but black would look nice, too."

"Dark grey works for me," the man smiled.  "What colour tie would you put with the outfit?"

"Tie?  Um, well, with that colour shirt, I'd opt out of the tie and just wear it with a lightweight blazer that matched the trousers.  Unbutton the top two buttons of the shirt, put a little product in my hair.  Casual, but still se- appropriate for a wedding," Conner could feel his face getting hot.

"No tie?  AWESOME!  I fucking hate ties.  You have no idea.  I have to wear a tie at work, and it feels like a noose," the man laughed.

"I prefer bowties myself.  Classy and different.  They make a statement," Conner was surprised that he was able to get that sentence out without stuttering.

"Well, I'll see you at the register then.  Let me just find that blazer," the man grinned.  "My name's William, by the way."

"Conner," Conner shyly grinned as he pointed at his nametag.

"Thanks for your help, Conner," William grinned again.

Conner smiled as he headed to the reguster to wait for William to check out.  If he was a braver man he would write his number down to slip into the shopping bag, casually, with the receipt.  But with his luck, William was probably married with two kids.  He was pretty sure that, with his choice of outfit, William was as straight as they come.

* * *

Conner sighed as he watched William walk out of the store with his purchases.

"Even his ass is perfect," he mumbled.  "I hope he comes back sometime."

Conner hadn't fallen this hard for a stranger since his high school crush.  Which told him that William HAD to be straight.

"I always fall for the straight ones," he frowned.


End file.
